


Trifle Not With Royal Thieves

by Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains



Series: Of Tears and Ash [13]
Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: Combat, Gen, Very Dubious Morality, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25642807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains/pseuds/Pearl_Pilots_In_Chains
Summary: Autolycus deals with a group of would-be assassins, who learn the hard way why it's a bad idea to go after 'The King of Thieves.'
Series: Of Tears and Ash [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1050806
Kudos: 7





	Trifle Not With Royal Thieves

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline-wise, this occurs around the same time as "Making Good on the Matter." Also, fair warning, this is one of the more violent things I've written, hence why I added that tag. I'm not sure that all readers would say it reaches the level of graphic, but I thought it warranted it.

Autolycus’s boots sent rays of water splashing out in every direction as they sloshed through the accumulated puddles, which, from what he could make out, seemed to cover the majority of the ground in the town.The few areas which weren’t currently submerged in at least some amount of standing water were apparently consuming the rain as quickly as it fell, as they had turned into a veritable morass of mud.All in all, it was an unpleasant environment.The road was well on its way to becoming a swamp. 

It wasn’t the sort of night he preferred to be out, but what could he do?These were the sorts of circumstances with which a practitioner of his profession was forced to contend.It was an unfortunate reality of the trade.If a buyer chose to set the final meeting for a job on a night when the heavens decided to void their contents across the coast, then so be it. He wasn’t about to cancel a meeting on account of a little water.Even if that ‘little water’ seemed as though it might start soaking through his boots any moment.He was glad the seal on them had held so far.

Turning a corner, he elected to take a short cut, in hopes of quickening his trip, even if it was only by a minute or so.The maze of alleys which he ducked into led to the thoroughfare on which the bar where he would be meeting his client was located.The twists and turns of the narrow streets were clear enough in his mind that he was confident in his ability to navigate them, even in the midst of the soggy darkness.

He kept up a brisk pace, slipping from street to street without delay, imagining the road before him so he could navigate efficiently, rather than pausing at every intersection to determine which option was the correct one.As he moved, he slid one hand to the pouch which hung from his belt.Encircling it, he felt the contents contained by its folds.The trinket it held (or in the eyes of some, such as his client, the treasure) wouldn’t be missed for a good while yet.Not until it was no longer on the shores of Greece, and his coin purse was a good bit heavier than it was now.It was all quite a satisfying affair.A clean, effective job, well-planned and well-executed.Those were the types of missions he enjoyed the most.Those which went off without a hitch.Oh, certainly, jobs which took unexpected turns could be more interesting, and might make for the better tale or memory after the fact, but the pride which came from a heist pulled off without a single mishap was an incomparable feeling in his eye, one which he truly savored.

One side effect of the rain was that it made it all but impossible to move soundlessly through the street.The impact of footfalls disturbing the puddles was a difficult sound to avoid, given their ubiquity.Autolycus had decided to forego the effort entirely, surmising that it would only prove to be an exercise in futility.

While he would normally have considered this consequence of the weather to be an adversity with which he must contend, he was also aware that it might provide certain benefits on occasion as well, making it a double-edged blade of sorts.On this particular evening, the omnipresent puddles happened to work to his benefit.It was due to their overwhelming prevalence that he immediately became aware of the fact that he was being followed. 

He ascertained that there were two distinct sets of feet moving through the swamped streets in his wake, matching his pace moderately well.He also quickly came to the conclusion that the individuals to whom these feet belonged were rather careless, as they made little, if any, attempt to minimize the noise of their movements.Personally, he knew that if he had been trailing someone, even in conditions such as these, where it all might turn out to be a fruitless endeavor, he would have gone to greater lengths to avoid detection.In their case, he was confident that their lack of foresight in this matter would preclude their mission from being successful.Not that it would have been a success even if they had taken additional precautions.He was, it bore mention, the king of thieves.He wasn’t about to be jumped by a pair of thugs, regardless of the proficiency they possessed in their craft (that is, if thuggery could even be considered a ‘craft’ to begin with).And clearly, the pair on his trail were not the most proficient of thugs.It would not be a difficult issue to resolve.

He continued on his route, giving no exterior indication that he had become aware of the presence of his pursuers.He attuned his ears to the sound of their steps and monitored them using his auditory senses just as they were doubtlessly monitoring him visually.They kept a good distance from him, as if they were hesitant to come to close.He took this to mean that they were waiting for a specific opportunity to present itself.However, as he was already winding his way through a virtual labyrinth of alleys, it appeared to him as though numerous locations through which he passed would serve as satisfactory mugging locations.Thus, he concluded that the duo behind him was waiting for further allies of theirs to arrive, or, alternatively, for him to reach a location where their collaborators might be waiting for him.He found the latter somewhat unlikely, because his route was not one which could be easily traced, even if someone was aware of the destination to which he was headed.He thought that it was utterly improbable for someone to have been able to predict his route beforehand, unless they had intimate knowledge of the internal workings of his mind.Thus, it seemed as though he might soon hear further pursuers.He accelerated slightly, careful not to modify his speed to the extent where the deviation from his previous tempo would seem suspicious and possibly tip off his stalkers that he was aware of their existence.

His prediction was proved to be accurate after a relatively short span of time, when two more pairs of feet joined the ones already in pursuit, merging in from an adjoining alley.This seemed to be the moment for which the original hunters had been waiting, as the entire quartet now quickened their pace.Autolycus knew they would soon overtake him.It seemed most probable that they would attempt to get a jump on him from close quarters.The constant downpour acted as an effective interdiction on the use of missile fire from any substantial range.He supposed the rain could be a friend at times, as there was a good chance his assailants might have merely attempted to snipe him out from a higher, more secure, location, if the night had been clearer.He had, after all, cultivated something of a reputation as an individual with a proclivity toward turning assassination attempts back on the would-be assassins in rather unpleasant ways.However, a result of the precipitation, the only useful projectiles were close-quarter throwing daggers, unless one was inclined to train a bow on someone in melee range, which frankly appeared to be a foolish idea indeed in his mind.It struck him that fortune might have elected to favor him.

As the attackers approached, apparently still under the impression that he was unaware of their presence, he slipped his hands downward, under the cover of his cloak.He drew a knife with each one, from a sheath at his belt, and a hidden sheath along his thigh, respectively.It paid to keep numerous weapons concealed on one’s person.It kept the enemy guessing as to whether they had successfully disarmed you, or if you simply wanted them to believe that to be the case.With him, the latter generally happened to be the truth.Doing a momentary mental inventory, he came up with nine as the total number of weapons he currently had concealed in various locations on his body.

He sensed his foes drawing near.He positioned the twin knives for the attack he had in mind, still moving ahead at an even rate, his preparation hidden by the voluminous sweep of his cloak.Two of the attackers surged forward, practically lunging for him.It seemed that they were foolish enough to believe that he had somehow remained oblivious to approach.They were clearly cut from a shoddy cloth.It would be no matter.Their end was fast approaching.As they shot in toward him, he spun about in an abrupt flash of movement, lowering himself toward the ground.His attackers were caught off guard by the unexpected movement, and the form which it took.For a second, they faltered, unsure of how to proceed.It appeared as though they had truly thought their quarry was utterly unaware of his surroundings.This was an error they would not have the opportunity to make twice.The instant of indecision was all Autolycus needed.

His strikes were almost artistic, reminiscent of the bound flow of a dancer, effortless explosions of motion beneath the sky’s descending tears.He plunged forward, uncoiling like a snake upon its rodential prey.His slashes were precise.One arced out high, finding its mark across the unguarded throat of the assailant on the right.Blood spurted forth as the blade cut deep.Autolycus kept his knives sharp.He liked an edge bristling enough that it yielded a clean shave, and could pass through flesh without exertion.In this instance, it performed admirably.

His left hand went lower, plunging forward rather than slicing.It was a quick incision and removal.The material of the man’s tunic was too frayed and thin to spare him.The blade ripped through it, diving into the victim’s belly, before Autolycus wrenched it free with a wet squelching sound.The minimal light available prevented him from seeing it, but he was certain that blood was already darkening the thug’s tunic.

The man on the right went down in a heap almost instantaneously, dropping his dagger into the muddy fen of the street, his hand clutching feebly at his torn-open throat, blood bubbling out from his mouth as it slipped open in incomprehension.Autolycus didn’t watch him long enough to see the light fade from his eyes.As far as the thief was concerned, that adversary was already dead.

The man whose entrails had been pierced stumbled backwards, looking temporarily shocked, his free hand traveling down to cradle his stomach and feel the blood which pumped forth to soak through his shirt.His sword hung loose at his side, forgotten for an instant.Autolycus’s suspicion that these men were mere amateurs in their work had been proven correct.‘Absolutely useless,’ he thought to himself.‘They definitely don’t have a clue as to who I really am.’

The other two attackers, slightly behind their now-dying comrades, came to a sudden halt themselves as they took a moment to process what had transpired in a matter of a few seconds.This was, as one could easily imagine, a fatal mistake to make.‘Perhaps they think they are safe, because of the distance that remains between us,’ Autolycus mused, his mind racing.‘It would be best for me to free them from such a foolish misconception.’

With a rapid recoil and jerk of his arm, he sent one of his knives whistling through the air.It slammed into the chest of one of the frozen men, burying itself three-quarters of the way up to the hilt.His gaze, which had been fixed in absolute bemusement at the grim tableau before him, now fell downward to his own form.He keeled over backwards, a look of confusion still plastered on his face.Mud plashed outward as he crashed to the mushy ground.

The abrupt downing of his remaining compatriot seemed to bring the last man out of his stupor.Free from his trance, and discerning that he was the last of a dying breed, so to speak, he decided it was in his best interests to avoid extinction by any means necessary.Turning tail, he bolted at top speed, discarding his sword along the way, as if he thought it would weigh him down.‘Damn, talk about a bunch of novices,’ Autolycus opined to himself.

Though fleeing at alacrity born of alarm was not a bad strategy, all things considered, Autolycus was firmly of the opinion that it wasn’t the best approach to take when the streets were as slick as the scales of a fish.This was a view that was validated in short order, as the feeling ruffian slipped midway down the alley, going face down into the mud.Despite the fact that he immediately tried to recover, by the time he was pulling himself up onto his knees, Autolycus was upon him.A quick kick in the aspiring assassin’s back sent him sprawling straight back into the muck. 

Autolycus shot a quick glance back, and confirmed that none of the felled foes had attempted to rise, a likely indicator that their threats of fate had had the misfortune of meeting the sheers.Turning back to the lout who still dwelt in the land of the living, Autolycus observed that he was attempting to raise his head, having pushed himself up on his front arms.Grabbing the assassin by the hair, Autolycus tugged his entire head backwards, exposing the man’s throat, to which he set his knife, delicately balancing the blade against the skin so as not to kill his victim before he pried the information he sought from the hapless hitman.The man went rigid was the cool of the blade brushed against him.

Bending down, Autolycus spoke carefully into the man’s ear.“Now, listen,” he began, “I’m not generally in the business of killing.Not really my scene, if you understand what I mean.That being said, when a group of bruisers comes after me in the middle of a dark alley, I’m not the sort of man to let them have a merry time murdering me.Put yourself in my shoes, I’m sure you can see my point.Now, I have to be honest—” he paused for a moment.The man remained still, afraid to breathe.“I’m very tempted to kill you right now and be done with it.But there is one thing, one thing mind you, that just might, might, convince me to spare you.Maybe.I make no promises.And that, my good assassin, is if you would be so kind as to tell me who it was who hired you.What do you say, can we come to an arrangement?”

He gave the man another opportunity to speak.Shakily, the ruffian replied, “Yes, w-we h-have a deal.”

“Careful there, if you shake too much, your throat might get a bit scratchy,” Autolycus mused.The man froze once more.“Now then, out with it sir,” Autolycus continued.

“W-we were hired b-by a man n-named Anaxagoras,” the man answered.It appeared as though he was rather incapable of shaking at this point.

“Hmm,” Autolycus mused, sounding suddenly contemplative.“You know, I do believe that name rings a little bell somewhere in my brain.I do indeed recall doing business with that individual.Bit of a bastard, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Y-yess,” the man stuttered out.A thin rivulet of blood was running down his throat, a testament to just how sharp Autolycus liked his blades.Thankfully for the assassin, the damage was only superficial at the moment.

“Ah, then he is the fellow I was thinking of.Good to put a face to the name and all that, you know?Well, either way, you would be doing me a remarkable favor if you happened to know where I might find him?I assume you were to be meeting up with him at some point after you eliminated me, right?To receive the appropriate coinage and all that.”

“Yes,” the man hastily confirmed.“We were to meet him tomorrow night in the square by the harbor, j-just after sundown.”

“Just after sundown, you say?Why, to me, that sounds like an excellent hour for a rendezvous.And to you?Do you find it an auspicious time too?Oh, please say you do, or I will be rather blue.”

The man looked downright horrified, as if he had come to the realization that his intended victim was not only a capable fighter, but also unhinged.He hastily voiced his agreement.“I’d s-say that’s a wonderful time to m-meet.”

“You know,” Autolycus remarked, “I’m very glad we see eye to eye on that.Now look,” he continued, “I am most apologetic, but I did say no promises.”

The man’s eyes went wide, but before he could react, Autolycus dragged the blade across his throat, pressing it in as he did so.As the man began convulsing, blood draining out into a nearby puddle, Autolycus rose to his feet and crossed over to the corpse in which his other knife was embedded.Grumbling to himself, he pried it free and cleaned it on an unstained portion of the man’s tunic.His eyes narrowed as he looked about at his slain attackers.Shaking his head, he strode forth from the alley with a scowl, returning to his route.For now, he had a deal to complete.Tomorrow evening, however, he felt that an outing to the square by the harbor would be a fine use of his evening.He intended to have a little conversation with his former client, or more accurately, former prospective client.It was exceedingly clear that a follow-up with Anaxagoras was in order.If only so Autolycus could reiterate his initial refusal to the man’s offer a little more ‘forcefully.’

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one of my HTLJ fics from 2018 (set in my "Of Tears and Ash" AU) that I never posted, but decided I might as well, considering the time I put into them. Once again, since I'm no longer really in the fandom, I'm backdating this to when I wrote it, so no one thinks I'm suddenly back into HTLJ.


End file.
